


Tigerstar's Forfeit

by coolshark



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Character Death, Dark Forest (Warriors), Other, StarClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolshark/pseuds/coolshark
Summary: Tigerstar faces his mistakes, one by one.





	Tigerstar's Forfeit

Every cat -- BloodClan, TigerClan, and especially the pathetic cats of WindClan and ThunderClan -- all of them listened as Firestar, that horrible stinking orange _rat_ outlaid all his rises and falls, every wayward plan, and every act of rightful retribution he had dealt to ThunderClan, the fools. But Tigerstar knew few of them would see it that way. Still, no TigerClan cat moved to join Firestar, even if Leopardstar _was_ startled by some of what she heard.

“This is Tigerstar’s history,” Firestar concluded, so full of himself it was a wonder he didn’t explode. “It all shows one thing -- that he’ll do anything for power. If he promised you a share of the forest, don’t believe him. He won’t give up one pawprint, not to you or any other cat.”

Tigerstar resisted the urge to curl his lip, but barely. Of course he had no real intention to give BloodClan any of _his_ forest, but their puny leader didn’t need to know that.

But still, Scourge was narrowing his eyes in calculating thought. “Tigerstar told me what he was planning to do with the dogs when he visited me two moons ago.” His icy stare sent the barest hint of chill into Tigerstar’s bones. “He did not tell me that his plan failed.”

The situation was slipping away from him. He had little time to salvage it. “None of that matters now,” he growled. “We have an agreement with you, Scourge. Fight beside me now, and you’ll have all I offered you.”

Scourge regarded him for a moment more, then replied in his cold, high voice, “My Clan and I fight when I choose.” His eyes flicked back to Firestar. “I will think about what you have said. There will be no battle today.”

Fury bubbled in Tigerstar’s veins. How _dare_ this puny cat betray him? The world reddened around him, and for one long moment he forgot even about Firestar, only fixated on the one pathetic mite that stood in his way. His tail lashed, and he dropped into a battle crouch. “Traitor!” he screeched, and then he was leaping, claws extended, ready to tear the smaller cat to shreds.

For his size, Scourge was quick, and darted away from the blow nearly too fast to follow. His claws, reinforced with dogs’ teeth (an accessory Tigerstar had thought admirable, in a brutal sort of way) slammed into Tigerstar’s shoulder, and then his paws were slipping out from under him. _No!_ He flailed his paws, trying to right himself, but then Scourge was darting in.

The dogs’ teeth claws sank deep into his throat, and in one tearing strike Tigerstar’s world exploded into agony. He shrieked in pain and rage, a yowl that was cut off by the blood that even now bubbled into his throat.

And then the pain was gone, and Tigerstar found himself standing somewhere very _else._ He was losing a life. On one side, a lush meadow, full of prey scents and fresh growth. _StarClan,_ he knew at once. But at his other side, a tall forest grew, all dark slimy trees and lit only very faintly by a disgusting green fungus that clung to the trunks and the soft, slimy earth. No light of StarClan’s touched it. Tigerstar thought he saw a pair of amber eyes staring out at him, but they just as quickly vanished.

He looked towards StarClan’s hunting grounds again, and this time made out a cat approaching him, one with stars that glimmered in his fur. The cat gazed at him solemnly, and Tigerstar’s own eyes stretched wide with surprise. “Redtail.”

The tortoiseshell tom gave a single nod. “I was always destined to die,” he told Tigerstar, “though not necessarily by your claws. Had you only waited for power to come to you, as it always would have, you would have become the greatest leader in any living memory -- and maybe beyond that.”

Tigerstar’s pelt bristled. “If I had waited, I would still only be deputy at _best_ while Bluestar paraded that fool Firestar around like he were her own son. I brought myself my _own_ power!”

“Yes,” Redtail agreed, “and you also brought yourself your own death. Goodbye, Tigerstar.” He raised his forepaw high and slashed his claws across Tigerstar’s throat.

Starclan dissolved into a flash of blinding light, and then Tigerstar was lying on the ground- but this wasn’t right. He was supposed to be healed, and instead he could only shriek again as blood pooled around him and his paws failed beneath him. Agony, agony-

And then he was standing again on the border between StarClan and the Other Place. Was he losing _another_ life? Another cat approached, a lean brown tabby tom that streamed over the grass like water over stones. Runningwind gave Tigerstar a hard look. “You killed me.”

“You deserved it,” Tigerstar spat.

Runningwind lifted his chin. “I deserved it for being a loyal ThunderClan warrior? I’ll tell you what I deserved. I deserved seasons more of serving my Clan. I deserved many more moons of sharing tongues with my Clanmates. I deserved to die a warrior’s death, or to retire to the elders’ den when my time came. But you picked me off like prey.” His tail flicked irritably. “So I think I know a thing or two about _deserving_ things, and I’ll tell you, Tigerstar-” He raised a paw, and his eyes glinted with something like satisfaction. “You deserve this.”

His claws flashed down, StarClan vanished in another bolt of pain, and again he was drowning in a world of agony. Why wasn’t StarClan healing his wound? He shrieked and shuddered, and-

He was standing on the border, and another cat was approaching. Tigerstar recognized the black-and-white pelt of Goldenflower’s first kit, Swiftpaw. Tigerstar expected the young cat to blame him for his death, but Swiftpaw only mewed, “You may have kept the dogs at Snakerocks, but it was my own foolishness and pride that led me to my death, and Brightheart to her suffering.” Sorrow flicked briefly into his eyes.

“Hmph. At least we can agree on something.”

Swiftpaw regarded him coolly. “And your foolishness and pride has led you here.” His claws flashed down.

More agony. His paws flailed and jerked, but he couldn’t right himself. Uncertainty worked its way into his bones as, yet again, the world faded around him. How many more times would he die?

The next cat that approached was a beautiful young queen. Brindleface stared at him with sad, exhausted eyes. Tigerstar remembered too well tracking her down, sinking his fangs into her soft throat, leaving her body for the dogs. She’d been less than prey to him then, and she was less than prey now. But now fear flickered into his heart. What would she say to him?

Brindleface sighed. “I’ll never get to be there when my kits earn their warrior names. If they earn them.” Her eyes met his, hers so sad it seemed her heart was breaking even as she mewed, “Is your revenge really worth it, all this suffering?”

Tigerstar found his words. “Every moment of it,” he growled. “I’d kill you again if I could.”

She bowed her head, and her claws flashed towards his throat.

Agony, agony, and now fear, real, genuine fear. How many times? How many deaths? How many?

Again he stood on the border, and this time the cat who approached was even smaller and skinnier than Scourge. Tigerstar remembered killing this one too, as a warning to those foolish WindClan pests.

“I wanted to be a warrior,” the ginger-and-white tom -- Gorsepaw, he remembered now -- mewed mournfully. “My mother was going to be so proud of me. Perhaps I could have even become deputy, and someday leader, but you took all that from me, and for what? To make a point?”

Though fear now pulsed through him, Tigerstar held firm. “You would have died anyway,” he snapped. “You were pathetic and weak, like all the rest of your Clan.”

“You never even gave me a chance,” Gorsepaw meowed reproachfully. His tiny claws flashed with starlight, and then the world again dissolved into a single red agony.

He caught a glimpse of Firestar’s horrified green eyes as he convulsed, and now his shriek was partly terror and partly disgust. _No! Don’t you dare pity me!_

He stood on the border, and this time he didn’t recognize the cat who approached. Stars glimmered softly in the she-cat’s gray fur, but her yellow eyes sparked with fury. Tigerstar shrank away from her burning glare, just a little.

“I loved Stonefur and Mistyfoot as much as any mother could have!” she snapped. “But look what you did to them.” Her fur bristled along her shoulders.

Tigerstar squinted, and suddenly the image of a ragged old elder spouting nonsense popped into his head. But it hadn’t been nonsense, had it? He’d found out Bluestar’s secret then, thanks in part to this once-addled elder, now a fearsome StarClan cat that looked ready to rake his ears off.

“I gave them what they deserved,” he replied.

She lashed her tail. “How _dare_ you hurt my kits!” Her claws raked across his throat.

The pain felt so fresh every time. It was all he could do to scream, and writhe, and die, and then once more he stood on the border of StarClan’s hunting grounds.

A strong gray tom approached next. Stonefur, the former RiverClan deputy with half-Clan swill for blood.

Tigerstar glanced away, but he could feel Stonefur’s gaze boring into him.

“You had me killed because I was half-Clan,” Stonefur meowed. “Or maybe it was because of who my mother is. You’ll do anything for revenge, won’t you?”

Now Tigerstar found the strength to meet the former deputy’s pale blue gaze. “Anything,” he agreed harshly.

Stonefur’s tail flicked. “You know, in another life we could have been Clanmates. We could have been friends, closer than kin, even. But instead, you had me killed all for the sake of your petty feud.”

Tigerstar lashed his tail. “It’s anything but petty.”

A snort from Stonefur. “Yeah, right, and my tail’s a weasel.” His claws came flashing down, and the world again dissolved into piercing whiteness.

He couldn’t bear it. His nine lives ceremony had been agony, but that was pain with purpose, and he’d welcomed it. This pain was meaningless, nothing, and only served to drag him once more into a swirling torrent of agony. He begged silently for it to stop. _Anything,_ he promised, _I’ll do anything, just make it stop!_

He stood on StarClan’s border, and the she-cat who approached was achingly familiar. Her mottled dark fur that he’d pressed so close to, the soft belly he’d suckled at, the flicking tail he’d played with, and the beautiful face he’d looked into time and time again and always promised to take care of. Leopardfoot, his mother, who had died so soon before her time. His mother, who had told him stories and stayed close to him even when his own father had abandoned him to be a _kittypet._

Tigerstar relaxed. Leopardfoot had always loved him. “Leopardfoot, I-”

“Don’t speak to me!” she snarled. “Not a word.” Her green eyes, always so loving in life, now blazed with fury.

He took a step back, startled. “But- you’re my mother!” he protested.

“Mother? You’re mistaken, Tigerstar.” Her voice was cold, like venom iced over, as she hissed, “ _I don’t have any son._ ” She raked her claws over his muzzle, and the pain of her claws was nearly enough to match the pain that rocked him to his core.

Again he bled, again he shrieked, and again the world swirled around him into a dizzying, final blackness.

He stood on the border of StarClan, and he was face-to-face with Bluestar. She had been so rattled, so _broken_ the last time he saw her, but now she stood strong on all four paws, and her eyes were alight with the strength and vitality that had mere moons before marked her as the strong and dedicated leader of ThunderClan.

“What do _you_ want?” Tigerstar spat.

“Nine times you’ve died,” Bluestar replied, “and you’ve learned nothing. You’re still driven by rage, ambition, and your own selfish desires. You had a _chance,_ Tigerstar.” A flicker of sorrow fell into her gaze, but she blinked it away in favor of cold determination. “You had a chance, even with all you’ve done, to become truly great. But now your memory will only live on as a hated, feared shade of what you were, a nursery story to scare kits -- and that’s assuming the Clans live long enough to pass it on, thanks to your incredible foolishness.”

“ _You’re_ the only fool here,” Tigerstar snarled, “and the only mistake I made was not killing you the very moment I had a chance!”

Bluestar’s eyes hardened. “Every step of the way, you betrayed the warrior code. You killed, you lied, you turned your Clanmates against each other, and you tried to destroy everything that the Clans stood for. You’re no better than a rogue, and you will never set one paw in StarClan’s hunting grounds. Get out of my sight.”

“And who are you to stop me?” Tigerstar challenged. His claws slid out and raked the grass. He wondered if spirits could be killed again.

Bluestar flicked her tail, and as one, every cat Tigerstar had ever wronged stepped up beside her. Gorsepaw, Leopardfoot, Redtail, and more, and more, an impassable wall of starry cats that stared him down coldly and extended their own claws in turn. StarClan was full of cats like this.

Tigerstar knew he couldn’t win. He made his decision. “You’re all fools,” he growled, “and if this is what StarClan prizes, then I want no part of your precious light. I’d rather die nine times again than set one _whisker_ in your hunting grounds!” With a sweep of his tail, he turned his back on StarClan, and he strode into the lightless, slimy forest that bordered it.

Before he’d gone ten steps in, he turned back to glare at the StarClan cats, but they were nowhere in sight. All around him were dark, twisted trees, sharp-edged ferns, pale glowing fungus, and the stinking, slimy ground beneath his paws, as though there had never been anything else.

 _Welcome, Tigerstar,_ an odd, silky voice purred. He couldn’t tell whether it was a cat calling from far away, or whispering into his ear, or even if it was a cat at all. _Welcome to the Place of No Stars, where no true Clan cats dare to tread._

Tigerstar stared ahead, and on firm paws strode deeper into the endless, silent trees. “Good,” he growled.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a fun little idea I had. Hope you like it!


End file.
